


Remembrance

by InexpungibleParonomasia



Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, How Do I Tag, I Blame Pyro, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 21:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15827313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InexpungibleParonomasia/pseuds/InexpungibleParonomasia
Summary: Whitaker remembers.





	Remembrance

It's almost a miracle that he remembers it with so much detail.

Not because of his amnesia, no, the Doctor said that his ability to create new memories is intact. On bad days, he wonders if it would be better if it wasn't. Then he thinks about Zosimos, and he feels ashamed of himself for even considering it.

It's almost a miracle that he remembers because it was so long ago. But then again, how could he forget? They day they met was hardly irrelevant to him.

It was in autumn, he remembers, a few weeks after he stumbled into the town. That was when he met the ironically named Zosimos, the most important person he can remember, and probably the most important person in his life. No one looked for him when he disappeared from wherever he used to live after all. Whitaker is certain that if he had gone missing, the Survivor would have looked for him everywhere. The thought isn't as comforting as it should be, it only rubs salt in the wound. If he left now, no one would care. He's not sure he would care either.

He's already lost, but the fact is Zosimos brought comfort and safety to his life, from the moment when he introduced himself with a "Hello. Nice to meet you. My name's Zosimos. You seem new to the town".

He always spoke like that; clipped, short sentences, always to the point. Whitaker remembers he hesitated before responding.

"Oh... Hello, I'm Whitaker." He had a cup of coffee with him, he remembers that, and he probably took a sip before continuing. "Nice to meet you." He considered not answering the implied question, but he would probably hear the answer from the Doctor anyway, so he said: "I'm new, yes. I... don't really remember how I got here, to be honest. The truth is I don't even remember who I am."

The other man furrowed his brow. "You told me your name," he pointed out.

"There was an ID in my pocket, it says I'm "Whitaker Brown". I'd like to know who names their child "Whitaker"." He paused. "Actually, I'd _really_ like to know. I'd like to meet them, if possible." He was oversharing. He blamed it on the caffeine and the fact that the man seemed trustworthy. Maybe the lingering disorientation too. Zosimos nodded.

"I get it. Not the name part. Though I also wonder who names their child "Zosimos"."

Laughter. He was laughing, it took him a moment to realize it. His shoulders shook and he gasped for air. Zosimos watched him, smiling. Then he chuckled briefly and said, "Anyway, welcome to Salem". He extended his hand for him to shake, and he did, with the vague sensation that he was signing some kind of contract. Perhaps it was Zosimos's handshake, firm but brief, just as clipped as his sentences.

Yes, he remembers. So much. The good moments, the peaceful moments, those moments where everything seemed to stop and they were oblivious to the chaos outside of their own private but momentary refuge.

He also remembers the day when Zosimos died. On bad days, he wonders if it would be better if he couldn't. Then he thinks about Zosimos, and he feels ashamed of himself for even considering it.

There was an Arsonist, that's how it started. "He is suspicious," Brändle said. "We cannot take any chances," Caldwell pointed out, and maybe she was right.

The Survivor didn't stand a chance against that lynch mob.

He remembers he wanted to look away. Instead, he held Zosimos's gaze, until the tears blurred his vision and prevented him from seeing how it happened. He did hear it, though. Sometimes he wonders if the crackling sound he heard wasn't actually the sound his heart made when it broke. It was in September, and that's the date they engraved in the headstone. He traces it with his fingers, and if he closes his eyes and makes an effort he can imagine he's caressing the Survivor's face. The flowers he left last night have started to wilt already. Zosimos's body must have rotten in the ground long ago.

He can't help thinking about him. On bad days, he wonders if it would be better if he could. Then he thinks about Zosimos, and he feels ashamed of himself for even considering it.

There is another grave nearby, but there are no flowers on it. He's never seen anyone visit it, and who would want to honor the town Jester? He's sure that everyone remembers Buffone's maniacal laughter when they decided to hang him, but he doesn't think they saw the sadness behind his grin. He stands in front of Zosimos's grave, and he can understand, he can relate to the Jester's hysteria. Perhaps that's what he's supposed to be. Maybe that hysteria is in his essence. Whitaker smiles, but his eyes are dead.

**An Amnesiac has remembered they were a Jester!**


End file.
